


tell the stenographer to scratch this one off the records

by neyvenger (jjjat3am)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, FC Barcelona, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/neyvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neymar really needs to remember his microphone is on before he starts saying stupid shit.</p><p>or</p><p>The one where Rafinha is a hot sports journalist and Neymar has no filter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell the stenographer to scratch this one off the records

**Author's Note:**

> Idk, so apparently I cope with losses by writing fluffy meet-cutes. This is based on [that one Nigel Hayes press conference](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlNpVFxQUtE), which you should watch, because it's adorable. Or not, live your life.

 

 

 

Early morning press conferences are always the worst kind of press conferences. It’s not that Neymar minds the media exactly…no, wait, that’s a lie, he actually hates most of them, but he’s at least gotten competent at handling their shit, provided they don’t fling it at him at a very early hour, where he hasn’t had time to work up all his defenses yet, considering he was probably up late the night before, as he usually is.

He really needs to get a better biorhythm going.

Unfortunately, he’s been #blessed with a coach that’s a certified morning person. He’s seen Lucho bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 5 am before, so it’s no surprise that the mister absolutely loves to face the press when he’s going up on his third cup of coffee of the day. He says that if they’re sleepy, they’re less inclined to ask stupid questions.

Privately, Neymar thinks that the mister probably believes all questions to be stupid questions.

Rounding up their trio of early birds is Gerard, who isn’t actually most of a morning person, but also happens to be part of a super-parents unit, which means he wakes up with the sun to drink soylent shakes and do whatever his wife says. Not that you could blame him. Neymar’s met Shakira, it’s very easy to get swept into her hurricane.

Honestly, he’s just really glad that Davi was never particularly inclined to wake up early, instead being a night owl like his father.

The press conference room is filling up, the translator is on standby, and the club PR person is already leveling the three of them with a warning glare that looks more helpless than stern. They all know by now that Lucho will say whatever the hell he wants, and that Gerard and Neymar are an unpredictable combination on the best of days.

Neymar gets distracted by the water bottle as the bustle slowly quiets. He wishes it were a cup of coffee, even though he’s not really allowed coffee on his diet plan.

He hears his name spoken in question and jerks from his reverie, searching in the crowd for the speaker and eventually meeting a part of inquisitive brown eyes.

“Oh wow,” he mutters to himself, “he’s beautiful.”

There’s a sudden beat of silenc, and then Gerard starts laughing, and Neymar gets hit with an uncomfortable feeling of impending doom.

“Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud?”

The whole room bursts into laughter and Lucho is smirking at him from the side, where Gerard has taken to laying with his forehead on the table, laughing with tears running down his face. From the corner of his eye, he can see the PR person sigh and rub their forehead.

The laughter is dying down, and Neymar can practically see when the mirthful expressions turn speculative, and it makes him wince. If he’s just accidentally outed himself in front of international press, his father will be so pissed. Not to mention how David Brazil will be unhappy he’s derailed his elaborate ‘Neymar comes out of the closet’ plan involving feather boas and a large rainbow float. He hates making David Brazil unhappy; it’s like kicking a particularly flamboyant Pomeranian.

In the end, Lucho saves him by leaning forward in his seat and deliberately speaking into the microphone.

“I’ve just decided,” he says, “that from now on, Neymar won’t be included in any of the morning press conferences ever again.”

Neymar’s fervent, “Thanks, mister!” gets another laugh and the tension eases, his faux pass momentarily forgotten. Though, this is the age of the internet; the whole thing will probably be on youtube in a matter of seconds. Maybe someone’s already made a gif.

Through it all, his eyes keep getting drawn back to the reporter who’d asked the question. Neymar could have used his filter, but what he said is completely true; the guy is beautiful, all strong jawline and sharp cheekbones, big soulful eyes and smooth dark skin. He’s smirking a bit, and it should make him look smug, but somehow he finds he doesn’t mind it at all.

Neymar feels his mouth go dry, and he contemplates going for the water bottle again, but since it’s the thing that got him into this mess in the first place, he ignores it best he can.

“Um, could your repeat your name and question, please?” he says, when it becomes apparent that their PR person isn’t going to. It seems like they’re experiencing some sort of existential crisis, which isn’t that surprising, since at the last press conference Dani had called Marca a ‘toilet rag’ and the reporter ‘unworthy of sucking his big toe’.

Neymar often wishes he had Dani’s eloquence with the media. Instead he apparently tells them he loves them instead.

“Rafael Alcantara, Vigo Sport,” the man says and Neymar catches himself in the middle of a dreamy sigh. The name suits him. He looks like a renaissance painting.

Neymar does his very best to answer the question he poses, which is intelligent and classy, like Rafael himself. Or maybe Neymar is a bit biased.

“…and if all reporters looked like you, I’d have no problems getting it up for all press conferences,” he concludes, only to immediately clamp his hand over his mouth when he realizes what he’d said. Gerard laughs so hard he rolls under the table. The PR person pulls something out of their bag that looks suspiciously like a rosary bead.

The press conference goes smoothly from there on out, mostly because Neymar spends the rest of it with his face in his palms, turning absolutely scarlet, not that it shows.

He sneaks peeks at Rafael from between his fingers, because a man’s got to have his priorities in order.

 

*

 

“Good job there, Ney-Ney,” Gerard grins at him afterwards. “You kept it so cool and classy, I’m sure that only everyone on this planet realized how much you wanted to have that guy’s babies.”

Neymar groans again. Gerard continues.

“I mean, not that I blame you. That guy was pretty hot. I’d have his babies, you know, if I wasn’t having Shakira’s babies already.”

“Rafael,” Neymar mutters, suddenly hit with an irrational bolt of jealousy, “his name is Rafael.”

“Oh, right, Rafael, sure. You know, Rafael da Silva Santos sounds nice.”

“Yeah,” Neymar sighs dreamily, as he’d been just entertaining the possibility, but then he realizes Gerard is laughing at him again and glares.

“So? Are you going to go after him?” Gerard asks.

“Um,” the possibility had literately not occurred to him, “I could just facebook stalk him for a while?”

Gerard sighs.

“Young people these days,” he mutters, “no romanticism! When I was wooing Shakira, I won her the World Cup!”

Neymar privately thinks that the Brazilian national team might not be ready for that yet, and also he doesn’t want to wait another two years for Rafael. Maybe he’ll settle for an Olympics medal?

“Ah-ha! So you admit it that you’re old!”

“Don’t change the subject, Neymar,” and Neymar still hasn’t gotten used to this, how quickly Gerard goes from laughing to completely sincere. “I think you should go after him.”

Neymar bites his lip in consideration. He keeps seeing those dark eyes, the white flash of teeth and the brief glimpse of a pink tongue as Rafael opened his mouth to repeat the question. He really wants to see him again.

He slots a pleading look towards the mister, but Lucho just rolls his eyes and waves him off, muttering something about not leaking tactical plans.

 

*

 

Neymar pulls his cap low over his eyes and takes another furtive look around the press room. Being here is probably a monumentally bad idea, considering that as soon as these journos figure out who he is, he’ll be trapped for the rest of the day, and he’ll have no chance of finding Rafael. There’s a loud outburst of chatter nearby and he takes an involuntary step backwards, thinking he’s been discovered, and bumps into someone instead.

“Hi,” the man murmurs in his ear. His voice is low and Neymar isn’t imagining the shiver that runs down his spine from hearing it. “Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here? You’ll cause a riot.”

Neymar turns around and, wow, Rafael is even more handsome up close. It makes his knees go a little weak. He speaks Portuguese with a Brazilian accent and Neymar itches with the urge to know everything about him.

“If it takes a riot for us to meet, it will have been worth it.” Neymar says, and feels victorious when Rafael laughs instead of grimacing. “Hi, I’m Neymar.”

“I know,” Rafael reaches out to take his hand. His palms are warm and dry, and his thumb has a smudge of ink on it. “Your head is on a billboard in front of my apartment. I’m Rafael. My friends call me Rafa. Do these lines really work for you?”

It’s an offer, maybe, and Neymar finally allows a grin overtake his expression.

“Only sometimes,” he says, “I don’t usually tell them they’re beautiful until the third date though.”

“Wow, I must be really special,” Rafa says, but he’s laughing, so Neymar must not be screwing this meeting up that badly.

And then, because he’s already established that he’s going to be overwhelmingly honest today, he says: “You know what, I think you really are,” and this time there’s no mistaking the way Rafa shyly ducks his head to hide his pleased smile. “Listen, do you want to go for a drink or something?”

They go for coffee. Even if it’s not in Neymar’s diet plan.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that was a Hamilton reference.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://neyvenger.tumblr.com/).  
> Kudos are loved, comments are treasured!


End file.
